Ellie belfiglio

When I hear this sound that awakens me, intimidating its way into my cloistered night, I write…

Hectic Pace



Hovering over hurried hands!

Working at a hectic pace.

Moving with such swift motions,

As if it were a race.

Trying to maintain,

What is thought to be lost.

Trying in vain,

Not to get beat by the frost.

An opponent with the edge,

Before the race begins.

An opponent with few defects,

Because it almost always wins,

The human hands below,

Give up the frantic fight;

And suddenly I find myself,

Floating in tunnel of light.

At the end of tunnel,

I see a field of green.

Surely a more splendid sight,

My eyes have never seen.




Author: elliebelfiglio

I am a professor, a poet, an author, and an immigrant. I am the survival of many political and economical hardship. As a political immigrant, it took me a long time to master the English language and to come to terms that I can never see my family again. "THE PARTING FROM MY FAMILY WAS THE BEGINNING OF A FRIENDSHIP THAN THE END OF OUR FRIDAYS!" My autobiography, "THE RAIN STOPS IN TEXAS" was published in 1997 by Eakin Press. It can be found in Amazon. As Ernest Hemingway says, write about something you know, most of my novels are about cultural difference of the old and new and American style of living compare to my home country. My poetry are in all forms. I write as they come to me. My first draft is always my last draft. "THIS IS MY WORLD, WELCOME!" "THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!"

2 thoughts on “Hectic Pace

  1. I loved your work today. You are amazing.

Let everybody be nice!

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